Unfortunately, the evening before we left, I closed the car door on my hand. I have never done that before. I did not have presence of mind when it occurred. Years ago, one of my nursery school daughters closed the car door on her fingers. Michigan mother that I was, I swooped down and released her fingers at the same moment I cupped some Michigan snow into my other hand and onto her throbbing little hand. The numbing effect of the frozen water was rapid, and her pain was not long-lasting. Last week, instead of thinking for more than a split second about opening the car door and releasing my hand, I yanked back like a colt who refuses to be tied. My hand came out, but not without some physical and cosmetic damage.
This bugaboo, not five minutes before that Spouse o' Mine called for a ride home from work. Could I pick him up at the coffee shop? Yes, I replied. And, I furthered, could you please go back in and get TWO cups of ice water for me? Why? BECAUSE I AM THIRSTY AND I SMASHED MY HAND IN THE CAR DOOR!!!
I thought that was explanatory enough. But apparently not crystal clear, because I arrived at the coffee shop to see him walking out with two cups of water - sans ice - and two straws in the cups. I rolled my eyes. I elevated my hand and the two of us continued to our next errand: the auto repair. Inside the repair garage, I sat down, hand elevated, and my third finger pounding and throbbing, was particularly straight up in the air. Some guys from the university basketball team came in to collect their car. After they left one of the auto mechanics told me I looked like I was flipping them off.
Well! Off we went, the next day, to Colorado. We two were joined by my niece Lisa, her husband Josh, and their little 13-month old daughter. Even though I had packed my bike, I could not ride, because I could not make a fist, and could not squeeze the brake. I watched the pro racers and loved it! I niece-sat while the other three went cycling, and loved it! I tell you what, though: getting down on the floor and getting back up again, then down on the floor, and back up again...and so on, for hours...there is a reason God gives us babies in our 20s and 30s and not in our 50s. But Charlotte Cate was sweet and adorable. And I apologized to her parents about that forehead bruise that occurred not five minutes after their departure.
This morning, I gained another niece. Great niece. Grand niece? Nephew Brian and his wife, Katie, delivered a fine baby daughter this morning: Olivia Kate.
Tuesday's child is full of grace.
1 comment:
Oh, your poor hand! I winced for you when I read that you'd smashed it in the door.
Yes, playing with grandbabies challenges our creaky joints, doesn't it? But it's so worth it!
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